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He wanted to hug her, but was he allowed to do that now? Or had his catastrophic attempt to talk to her about the future taken away even that honor?

Silently she passed her frame over to him. Equally silently, he reached for his and handed it to her.

When he turned her collage round, his heart jumped into his throat. We look so happy together. It was all he could think, all he could see. Them grinning on their side-by-side massage tables at the spa, smiling by the penguins, looking snug on the sofa with their hot chocolates. Laughing outside the bar. Him staring at her in the restaurant like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“But these are all of me.”

He turned to see Anna frowning down at the collage he’d given her.

“Is that not okay?” Damn it, did she hate it? He’d selected the photos he loved the most; her on top of the climbing wall, her with her arms around Pearl, her dancing to All I Want for Christmas, her on the open-top bus, singing her heart out. Really though, he could have put any of the photos he’d taken of her in the frame, she was that photogenic.

Her blue eyes looked utterly confused. “I guess . . . I assumed it would be a collage of photos of us together.”

He held her gaze. “I assumed it was a collage of our favorite photos.”

He was clumsy with words, but surely she could see what he was trying to say?

The frown between her eyes remained as she stared back at the photo frame. After a while the silence became so heavy, so filled with tension, even he couldn’t stand it. “Should we have takeout?” He asked.

It was the quietest night they’d spent together, both clearly lost in their own thoughts as they spent Christmas Eve eating Chinese and watching Slow Horses.

December 25th

It was the first time Anna could ever recall waking up on Christmas Day and feeling miserable.

Her first thought was Luke. Would he still be here? Yesterday she’d seen his suitcase sitting by the door just inside his room. Had he left last night, after their takeout? Was he now in a hotel room, getting ready to spend another Christmas Day by himself, no doubt thinking of his mom and how he believed he’d let her down?

Regret flooded her, so much of it, she was drowning in it. Why had she thrown that in his face? She’d known how tortured he still was over it, how selfish he felt he’d been. Yet how could he ask her to be equally selfish? Was she supposed to forget how much he’d wanted that job and tell him to stay, when it opened her up to a similar lifetime of guilt? Of knowing she’d been the one to stop him doing what he’d wanted to do?

Jack jumped up onto the bed and came to nuzzle her. “At least you’re still here.”

Her gaze flicked over to the dresser where the collage Luke had made, which she’d accidentally brought into her room last night, taunted her.

His favorite photos, he’d said. And all of her.

She hadn’t known what to make of it, still didn’t. Had he believed he needed to pick photos of her, and her of him, rather than the best photos of them together?

The man sent so many confusing signals, she didn’t know which were real, which were her misreading him, and which were him pretending he didn’t feel things when he did. She’d seen him break down by his mom’s grave, knew he felt a lot more deeply than he liked to show. But whatever he felt for her, it hadn’t been enough to say the words outright, and she’d been rejected too many times to want to put herself out on a limb again.

She hadn’t been enough to keep her parents close. Not been enough for the three guys she’d dated seriously. It was madness to believe she was enough to keep Luke.

“Well, I’m not spending Christmas day in bed,” she muttered to Jack.

Feeling anything but festive, she threw on her Christmas Day sweater, the one where the lights lit up when she pressed a button, and walked into the kitchen.

Her heart jammed into her throat at the sight of Luke, his back to her, peeling potatoes.

“Merry Christmas.”

He turned and gave her a small, tense smile. “Merry Christmas, Anna.”

“You stayed.”

“I did.” He peered into her eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

He angled his head. “You’re sure?”